Thank you for your help, Marilyn!
Chapter Twenty-three
Zoellner parked their truck beside Tiger's large, black paneled truck, its blunt nose pointed toward the road, ready to roll. Tiger and her men were gathered at the rear bumper, fully kitted out in clothing that blended into the woodland flora.
Hogan swept an approving glance over Satordi, Moreau, Batiste, Varden, Durand and Jeoffroi. They were the best of Tiger's men, always totally focused and completely professional. They gave Klaus and Hermann a curious, thorough once-over and then directed their full attention to Carter's explanation of the bomb. It did not take them long to absorb his instructions. Tiger's men were as thoroughly trained as Hogan's and just as familiar with bombs. With a nod and a quiet "good luck" to the Frenchmen, Carter turned to Hogan and Tiger.
"Ready, Colonel. And ma'am."
Hogan took a good, hard look at the two groups of men now standing together as one, waiting with strong, confident expressions. Even Klaus and Hermann, men unused to bowing to the leadership of a foreign officer, stood respectful and attentive. And, Hogan noted with satisfaction, Klaus' gaze was fastened upon him, not Tiger. Duty first.
Hogan glanced at Tiger. With a nod and slight twitch of her full lips, she signaled her own readiness. Turning back to their men, he briefly trained his gaze on each of their faces. "Set your bombs and then get to the rendezvous coordinates." He took a deep breath, lifted his chin and straightened his back. "Good luck."
Tiger's men turned and piled into Zoellner's truck, taking their bombs with them. Zoellner would take them to a drop point slightly closer to the bunker. From there, they would climb the hills, each man taking a bomb to a ventilation shaft.
Newkirk handed off his pack to Hermann and headed for the black truck's cab. The rest of Hogan's men climbed into back. As planned, they would travel directly to the bunker itself.
Tiger took a step away from Hogan, turned and looked up at him. In one, brief look, they acknowledged that these might be their last moments together. And then they put their personal relationship aside. They had a job to do.
"Bon chance, mon colonel," Tiger murmured, before moving to join her men in Zoellner's truck. Hogan climbed into the black truck with his men, watched out the truck's open doors until Zoellner's truck had pulled away, then tugged the doors closed. He paused, hands still on the door's handles, his back to his men.
"See you soon," Hogan whispered, picturing Tiger, praying it was a promise he would be able to keep.
HH HH HH HH HH HH HH HH HH HH
With a wave of one slender arm and a final, silent prayer for her men's safety, Tiger sent them into the forest. As soon as the last had passed from her sight, she turned toward the hill behind her. Bypassing some dense, flowering bushes at the side of the road, she jogged to the base of the hill and paused to listen. Her men had searched the area earlier as a precaution that no extra guards had been posted since the explosion in the bunker. None had been found, but still . . . it paid to be careful.
Color flashed to her right. She jerked, startled, then released a soft chuckle. It was only a bird hopping around in the branches of a bush, bobbing its tiny head from side to side. It sent out a shrill warble and flew higher into the trees.
Her gaze went up-slope, through the old trees, saplings, brush and deadwood to the horizon. Batiste had told her of a high vantage point, one where she would have a clear view of the bunker's entrance. She could wait there, her camouflage clothing rendering her invisible amongst the leaves, moss-covered boulders and algae-dappled tree trunks. Lightly touching fingertips to her holstered weapon and saying another quick prayer for the safe completion of their mission, she started up the hill.
HH HH HH HH HH HH HH HH HH HH
The quiet in the back of the truck was deceptive.
The calm before the storm, Hogan thought, swallowing. He was calm, but far from peaceful.
Adrenaline and tension were building within him, sharpening his senses. Every noise sounded louder - from Kinch's soft breathing to the quiet squeak of Carter's boot as he lightly bounced his foot, and LeBeau wiping his hand on his trouser leg. Olsen's sniffing back a sneeze as his allergies flared from the spring pollen. Benson's quiet chuff of laughter as Olsen sneezed anyway.
His men. His friends.
Had he planned well enough? Would they all make it back? Or would he have letters to write when he returned to camp?
I regret to inform you . . .
No, Hogan prayed, closing his eyes. No. Better me than any of them. Please.
A triple-tap sounded from the truck's cab. They were nearing Kurt and O'Malley's drop point. The flashlight flicked on, momentarily blinding everyone. Blinking owlishly to clear their vision, Kurt and O'Malley stood from their seats. Both were heavily laden with backpacks of medical supplies and blankets. The truck had barely stopped when they opened the doors and jumped out. Hogan leaned off his seat and put out a hand, keeping O'Malley from closing the doors.
"Stay out of sight and stay safe. Good luck." Hogan told them quickly. Kurt gave him a brisk nod. O'Malley saluted.
"Aye, sir. The same to you." O'Malley swung the doors shut and the truck rolled on. The flashlight stayed on this time.
Newkirk's double-tap came minutes later.
Hogan, Kinch, Carter and LeBeau stood. Kinch crossed his hands behind his back and sent a teasing smile over his shoulder at Hogan.
"Why do I always have to be the prisoner?"
"You just have that kind of face, buddy," Hogan replied, deadpan. Working quickly, he loosely wrapped a length of rope around Kinch's wrists, then pressed the ends into his palms. Kinch closed his hands around them, concealing the fact that he was not actually bound.
Hogan changed positions with Carter and LeBeau so that he stood directly behind them and they bracketed Kinch. The rest of the group watched tensely from their seats, awaiting the moment they would join them. Kinch bowed his head, breathing deeply. LeBeau shifted his rifle from one shoulder to the other, grimaced and decided to cradle it instead. Carter reached up and patted the top of his helmet, firmly seating it on his head.
Hogan leaned forward slightly, murmured loud enough for them to hear, "Try not to damage our prisoner too much pushing him around, okay?" Kinch's shoulders shook with a low chuckle. LeBeau and Carter glanced back at Hogan, flashed smiles, then faced the doors again. Hogan leaned back, satisfied. All three seemed steadier.
The truck slowed and stopped, Newkirk's single tap announcing they had arrived at the bunker. Carter threw the doors open, jumped out and immediately turned back, motioning Kinch out of the truck. LeBeau followed Kinch out, his rifle held in a threatening pose. As soon as Hogan's feet hit the ground, he immediately shut the doors again, concealing the rest of the group from the two guards at the bunker's entrance. Hogan approached them, tempering every stride with arrogance.
"Another one for Herr Doktor Arkel's demonstration."
Kinch whirled and head-butted Carter in the chest, knocking him to the ground. Completing his spin, Kinch aimed himself at LeBeau next. He dodged Kinch's 'attack', stumbled and went down. Kinch, wearing his fiercest expression, glared at the smaller men, as if trying to decide which to stomp first.
The guards, upon seeing the brawny 'prisoner' getting the better of the smaller men, quickly abandoned their posts, eager to help subdue him. They never even noticed that Carter was taking an inordinate amount of time to regain his feet.
"Do not harm him!" Hogan yelled, throwing his arms wide. "Herr Doktor wants him in good health!"
Kinch threw off the rope. His fist whipped through the air, taking one guard to the ground with a jaw-cracking uppercut. Hogan's powerful roundhouse right dropped the other.
Carter and LeBeau jumped to their feet and started brushing the dirt from their uniforms. Hogan's head whipped toward the truck and he blew a shrill whistle through his teeth.
The truck's doors flew open and the rest of the men poured out. Olsen and Benson, wearing uniforms identical to the guards', grabbed the unconscious men by the feet and dragged them into the undergrowth to bind and gag them.
Carter hurried to Hermann and retrieved his satchel of explosives. Klaus, holding his own along with Newkirk's, eyed the bunker doorway, lips pressed into a hard line. He never even turned when Newkirk trotted up and took the satchel from his hand. Hogan snatched the rope off the ground and in a matter of moments Kinch had resumed his 'prisoner' status.
Olsen and Benson sprinted out of the woods and took up the guards' positions at the door. Olsen pulled it open a crack, peered inside, then flashed an all clear signal.
Carter and LeBeau bracketed Kinch again; Carter with his satchel and LeBeau again acting as guard. Receiving a 'go ahead' nod from Hogan, Benson opened the bunker door, and Newkirk, Hermann and Klaus entered. Kinch, Hogan, Carter and LeBeau passed through a few moments later.
If all went as planned, Herr Doktor Arkel's experimenting days would soon be over.
Permanently.
To be continued . . . Thank you for reading!